c. October 1899 / 23 December 1899 - 'The Trousseau of Today' by Dora de Blacquiere

I am unsure of the date of issue of this article, as my volume is missing the front pages. But it is some time late October. Puzzlingly, the body of illustrations of the articles described doesn't appear until a much later issue, on 23 December. Go figure. I have transcribed and scanned everything here for coherency. But anyway, as the title suggests this is an article about what a Nice Young Lady's trousseau should ideally constitute. Miss de Blacquere is cheerfully aware that the purses of the vast majority of her readers will not stretch as far as she proposes. So it's nice to know that fashion articles haven't changed very much.

The amount allowed for the purchase of a trousseau differs with the circumstances of the family and the number of it, and is governed also a good deal by the kindly generous nature of the parents. To some cases where a marriage is in prospect which is remarkably good in a worldly point of view, the parents will probably desire to provide more handsomely than they would otherwise do were the prospects less brilliant. The amount of dress needed will be far more considerable in one case than the other; although the number of dresses may be the same, the style of them will be more expensive.

We will take a family of fair position with comfortable means, the daughter marrying an officer in the army or the navy, or a professional man of good position; and here we shall find that the sum set aside for the bride’s trousseau will will range from 100 pounds to 150, up to 200, the latter being a very usual sum, especially when a girl has no fortune, or very little to take with her to her new home.

The cost of the trousseau of today may be rated rather higher, I think, than it was ten years ago; that is, so far as regards the purchasing power of the amount allowed, which is not so great as it was; or rather, perhaps, I should say that we have advanced in our ideas of what is required and thus dresses cost more than they did formerly. On the other hand we can manage to do with fewer of them; for we unquestionably think it wiser to have less than we did. This rule seems to apply even to the trousseaux of Royal ladies. The number of unmade gowns in them is very large, which shows that the varying moods of fashion are taken into account; and it is evident that there are many materials which can be purchased and laid aside for a time without injury, and also without becoming old-fashioned. But here the commonsense view of the matter steps in and inquires
"Why buy them before you need them, if you are not ‘A Royalty’? In their case we can comprehend the necessity - there are so many people, institutions and nationalities that must be patronised on the occasion of a Royal wedding.”

Well, the true answer seems to be, I am sorry to say in that well-known phrase “Take it while you can get it” - in other words, while people are in the mood for giving. There is also something in the fact of the fixed sum which is laid aside to be spent on the one object. It is best to use it. Perhaps if any of it be laid aside, circumstances may require it elsewhere. Life is uncertain, and the father and the mother alike know human nature, and as it is their own money, and a kind of last gift to their child, they prefer it to be used as it is intended. To avoid having too many made-up things laid by which may grow out of date, it seems better to purchase the materials which may be useful in the future, and which are excepted by ever-varying fashions.

Now, serge, blue and black, is one of these materials, and a little consideration will give us others: white-dotted muslins and other thin materials, if our steps were likely to be turned to India or any other hot climate; or they would be useful even in England if we continued to have the hot summers of the last three years; and more especially if the heat were to extend into August, we would require quite a stock of clothing.

Perhaps, for the sake of argument, it is well to say that our trousseau allowance consists of 200 pounds. Of course there are very many girls who do not get more than half or a quarter of this sum, but still there are certain things that every girl must have and every trousseau must contain, and so one sum is as good as another; for where one girl would be entitled to afford ten guineas for a gown, another would need the same, but would only be entitled to pay five pounds.

Certain fashions obtain in one class which do not in another, it is true; but there are many girls who have to look as well as their richer sisters on half the annual income. This is done at the expense of personal thought and exertion, and of a patient determination which carries all before it. It is done by calculation and attention to the minor details of expenditure, by a knowledge of where to buy, and how to buy in the cheapest market. One girl will look smart and stylish, where another, with far more money, will look dowdy and plain; her gowns will have mysteriously lost their freshness as soon as worn, and nothing will be at its best in her wardrobe.

That mysterious thing what we call style seems to be both a personal attribute and an acquired virtue, as some girls have it by nature, and from their earliest days we know they will look well in whatever they wear - with a touch here, a pull there, and under the magic touch of their deft fingers, the most untoward garments look well. It is also acquired by many observant girls in a suitable environment, and I think it means that they have the initiative faculty strongly developed.

It is a great thing to find out your style and what suits you, and stick to it. Many girls look their best in a coat and skirt, and they appear smart and well set up, while we all know the other girl, who looks and feels untidy and messy and comes unscrewed at her waist. Perhaps really good style consists in an exquisite tidiness, a dainty sweetness and cleanliness which is never forgotten or omitted: bathing and brushing, and a strictness in mending all the tears, and sewing on all the buttons and [illegible because of tear and stain on page] …

The sum we have selected, first, must be divided into two parts; the first hundred pounds must be applied to the dresses of the trousseau, and the second to the underclothes and the numberless other accessories - bonnets and hats, boots and shoes, stockings and gloves, etc. - which go to make up the complete outfit of every woman. So we will begin with what seems to be an ordinary amount of gowns for any girl who is in society and therefore requires a certain amount of going out clothes of one kind or another.

In making a list of the gowns we put down the wedding gown, veil and wreath, the going-away dress, evening gowns and tailor-mades, as for a wedding at any season these will be needed, and if in the winter, a mantle, jacket, or coat, in addition, and probably some furs.

Just at present the wedding gown is almost always made of ivory satin, with a Court train, this latter being so long and ample that it is nearly another dress. Of course, if the bride intends to be presented on her marriage, this is a very wise arrangement, for it will thus answer for two purposes and do for two events. Otherwise, having a Court train strikes me as a clever way of obtaining a second white satin gown, which, if you are to go out much, will be useful. But there is no need of the Court train, and you can have a very handsome wedding gown without it.

It quite depends on your after use of your wedding-gown how much you spend upon it. Thirty-five guineas, if made of the best satin at about 15 shillings a yard, would be a handsome sum; but out of your hundred pounds it would be quite excessive. So I should advise you to look carefully at the satins, and if you can get the rightly-coloured ivory - the true hue of old ivory - in the linen-backed kind, do not take a silk one, as the former will wear quite as well and will look very nearly the same. About 7 shillings or 8 shillings a yard would be enough to give at a really good shop. If you have any old lace, use it for your wedding-gown, at least for the neck and sleeves. The tulle veil and wreath together will cost about 2 pounds and after this you need to consider the shoes and stocking, petticoats and gloves.

What is called the going away gown is, next to the wedding gown, of the most importance in a trousseau, for this reason - that it will be for most women the out-of-door piece de resistance for the summer or winter trousseau. A fair sum should be allowed for it, and it should be carefully chosen. I have seen two this season which have pleased me very much. The first was a summer gown of mauve voile, lined with a slightly darker silk, and trimmed with a flat garniture of white lace with an edging of narrow black velvet. On the skirt there were two rows of this, and the same was on the bodice, which had a white lace vest and revers, and one of the new lace collars that are quite transparent and stiffened by means of whalebones at the sides, back and front. A hat to match this gown was intended to be worn with it, but I should have preferred a black hat as the wearer was fair and the contrast would have been effective. A petticoat was made to match of the same silk, which is just now a very usual thing.

The other gown was what is called a tailor-made. It was of the palest grey cloth, the bodice being also simple, with a front of white satin and lace, and revers of the satin, which were braided with black and white. The hat worn with this was one of those gathered ones of chiffon or tulle in the prettiest pale blue, with a petticoat of the same.

It will be seen that either of these gowns were of a character to be useful afterwards. Perhaps, instead of the blue hat or toque, one might have preferred one of the grey-coloured tulle, or a white one. These two are specimens of what is required in the going away gown of summer and the conditions vary but little in winter, for the cloth may be slightly heavier and some fur may be used. But the gown is a smart and dressy one and, if needful, additional warmth may be procured by means of a cape or mantle: or the gown itself may be cool, and the skirt handsomely fur-trimmed, but suitable for afternoon wear.


As a general rule, three tailor-made gowns would be a fair allowance in such an outfit as this, including, of course, the going away dress, if that were of cloth, and tailor-made.  We must consider the exigencies and requirements of our daily life, and these would demand a knockabout, everyday coat and skirt of a tweed, serge, or homespun, and another slightly better and more dressy, but not so dressy as the one I have mentioned. The tailor-made gowns may be classed as good, better and best, and therefore it is well to look about us and try to find such models for each as we may like. The cost would vary from three guineas, for the everyday one, up to six or even seven, for the best. The tailor you employ would of course make a difference in charge. if extremely fashionable or of a more quiet order.

After the tailor-mades would come the consideration of summer piques, drills, and flannels, with the muslin blouses to wear with them. Most girls have a stock of these already, and there is nothing to prevent them making such additions as will bring them up to the mark. These piques and drill dresses can be purchased at very moderate prices during the sales, and so they need not be considered as expensive. Indeed, most of the girls I know have the skirts and muslin blouses either made at home or done, by some “little dressmaker” to whom they supply patterns and materials. A pique skirt, however, it is better to purchase, unless your little dressmaker can manage the strapped seams, for which there is an obligation at present if we would be in the fashion.

As regards the coats of these white gowns, I do not think we, any of us, find them of great value, and we wear out ten skirts to one coat. Frenchwomen wear them sometimes with black or coloured skirts, and I have noticed that they are worn in this way in England; but if you must have a jacket, or do not know what to do with those you have, I should advise you to have something between an Eton and a Bolero made of them. You can purchase a shape to suit you, and have the transformation carried out by any good dressmaker who works by the day, or who will undertake such small renovations and alterations.

The next important question is, I think, the gown for functions or for dinner parties and small evening reunions; and my experience leads me to say that black satin is the best for these, and that a black satin with three bodices is the most useful. We illustrate two of these made this season for a trousseau. [I will not be scanning and uploading one of these pictures. I inherited this volume from my mother, and her brother drew boobs on it at some point during their childhood.]

The first had a yoke and sleeves of white lace; the second, an evening bodice with a white lace top; the third bodice was in black, and could be worn out of doors. It was trimmed with sequins and chiffon. A good quality of black satin should be selected, and you must be guided as to price, and whether it should be a silk or linen backed one also, by how much you are likely to require it, as a black satin shows wear rather more than a white one. The less trimming on the skirt the better, as trimmings so often mark the date of a gown, and you will be anxious that your trousseau gowns should render you as long service as possible.

So you must be careful only to select designs that are not of an extreme character; and both materials and patterns should be fashionable, but not too “loud”. In this you will need wisdom and if you patronise a good shop they would help you. The extreme of style one year will often become the special fashion of that which follows.

The next gown is one which, while suitable for a dinner at a hotel or restaurant, could also be made suitable for a very smart garden party. It is of white silk and chiffon, with white lace over it. The bodice was a square with transparent lace sleeves. These lace gowns were much worn this year, and I have always thought them perfect epitomes of smartness and beauty. The gown illustrated cost about ten guineas, I believe, but this expense could be lessened in various ways, as the shop was a very fashionable one, and nothing was grudged in its construction as to the material.

The other gown which was prepared for the trousseau, was a white, satin-faced foulard, with a tiny mauve design on it of leaves and spots. This was an afternoon visiting and concert gown, and was not very costly, only about six guineas. It was made with a painted double skirt, and the trimming was tiny gathered ruchings of white silk. In the winter the place of it would be taken by a handsome tailor-made gown of cloth. I think that, taking into consideration the garden parties of summer, the trousseau of the winter would probably be less expensive. But still, if you were wise, something would be laid aside, or some preparation made for the summer gaieties that are sure to follow.

The next thing that I must dwell upon here is the hats and bonnets. The fashions of this present season seem to require a hat or a bonnet for every costume; but, on the other hand, we never had such a year for black hats, and they were quite correct for any costume, so the law was abrogated in its original sternness, which spelt ruin for some moderate allowances. Still, the going away hat or bonnet looks better when not black; and it seems more suitable, too, that it should either match the dress or contrast with it. This year the drawn chiffon hats were so much in vogue that they were often chosen. Otherwise, a white hat is the prettiest possible choice for a youthful bride. The tailor-made travelling gown must be considered in the choice of a hat or bonnet, which would be of a quieter style, and one that would be afterwards the ordinary walking headgear. The bonnet and hats for this trousseau would cost from seven to eight pounds.

In the matter of gloves we are very fortunate, for it seems to be the fashion now to wear white for every toilette. I see some black worn, however, as well as grey and lavender and for the evening Swede are still used. White are to be obtained as low as 1s 11d a pair, and if you are to go to a well known shop they are very good, and can be cleaned two or three times, but they must be kept mended and the buttons sewn on. Of course your evening gloves cost more, but with care they can be made to last. Of gloves you would need - one kind and another - perhaps two dozen; and you should select a supply of all those suitable for the various purposes you may need - riding, driving, cycling, ordinary walking in the country, best, second best and evening, and when you have got them please remember that you must see to their preservation and keeping and find a suitable basket or box and a dry place to keep it in.

Veils, parasols, waterproof, en tout cas, umbrella, pocket handkerchiefs, neck ties, feather boa, and endless small lace additions to dress - all of them cost money. IN fact, one of my recent brides, on going over these last things, declared that her trousseau consisted of sundries; and that, when she added the boots and shoes and stockings, she might as well have 25 pounds at once. This was the girl I have always admired for her straightforward consideration of the subject, as she said that it was the only time in her life she was sure to have all she wanted - a regular outfit - and she meant to have it.

"If I were only one of the boys!" she said. "They always have outfits for somewhere, if not Ashanti, it is India. And just see what they want. Bullock trunks and theodolites; and if the War Office changes a button or a tag, there is a new uniform at once. Oh, you don’t know about boys! Their millinery is so excessive!”

And after this outburst the boys assured me with groans that it was really dreadful.

[That is the end of the October article. Here is the 23 December article, with all the illustrations.]
 

The very best thing for ordinary wear is a tiny kind of Bolero jacket (see Fig.1) made of muslin and lace, which meets with a button or ties in front over the chest, and is long enough to cover the stays to the waist at the back. Fine nainsook for ordinary daywear, and a good strong muslin for best, with a Valenciennes edging round it, and an insertion too if you like to go to the trouble and expense it will occur. With this little addition you will look quite presentable when you go to your dressmaker’s. No one knows what some women look like when they go to be "tried on" at their long-suffering couturiere’s. The French call them cache-corsets, a far better name than ours, and much more descriptive.

The model in Fig.2, with crossover fronts, is a useful one, for if you do not like it as is, you can remodel it into a Bolero, with rounded fronts, by merely standing in front of your glass, and pinning it into shape. In silk, some of these are really beautiful, being made of pink, pale blue, or white, with insertions of lace, and trimmings of pink baby-ribbon. This, however, is also to be seen as an additional ornament to the batiste and cambric ones. In fact, there is no extent of luxury to which you cannot go, in the extravagance of your linen, and I must not omit in this article to illustrate and to tell you all about these beautiful things.

At Fig.3 we find the drawers to match, the upper pair being of white China silk. All are wide at the knee, and cut in the French style, without bands at the waist.

Fig.4 represents three chemises, made of fine flowered batiste, lace-trimmed, with baby ribbon runnings and bows. The designs and trimmings are novel.

Fig.5 shows three more chemises, made of cambric linen, embroidered in flat embroidery and pink silk, with a lace flouncing round the shoulders. Wide lace is mostly used for silk underclothing, and tucks ornament it in great abundance, but not much insertion.

In Fig.6 we find some examples of fine longcloth petticoats, edged with both lace and embroidery.

 


At Fig.7 there are some beautiful flounced and laced skirts, some of these with an upper and under flounce, which makes the effect fuller and more transparent.

"The three nightgowns shown at Fig.8 are severally of nainsook and of silk. The one at the top, on the left, is of white silk, with wide lace, and a narrow insertion; the one below it, of fine nainsook and very fine embroidery, is cut square at the neck. A large proportion of our newest nightgowns of superior quality show a tendency to this style, and are either half-high or low; and in several instances I have seen short sleeves, with a sailor collar, opened in a pointed shape. The third model here is of white silk, with frills of silk, embroidered, and edged with real lace."

Fig.9 shows the very pretty new night-dress cases that are often supplied on the Continent with the night-gowns themselves. A very genteel practice prevails, however, of making them of white satin, of a very large size, and edging them with deep lace. In England these ideal sachets have become a favourite wedding present for those young ladies to make who are clever with their fingers, and do not desire to enter into any great expense.

The small dressing jacket so much used will be seen in Fig.10 where three are shown. They are made of batiste, nainsook, and silk, the latter having a tiny Bolero jacket as an additional ornament. These little jackets are extremely useful, when we do not require a larger covering, and have only to smooth our hair and wash our hands before dressing.

While I think of it...

I had a thought the other day. I have twenty-odd years of magazines to get through. The readership of this blog is tiny enough that if anybody wants more articles on any subject in particular I can provide on demand! So if you want MORE SCARY VICTORIAN FOOD, or MORE FASHION, or MORE SOCIAL INTEREST STORIES etc etc, please leave a comment or email me and let me know! :)

5 May 1889 - Answers to Correspondents - Miscellaneous

A SHY GIRL – The only cure for shyness is to be found in the attainment of self-forgetfulness; and this latter is to be found in devoting your thoughts and practical attention to others.  To wait on them, to please them, to listen to and learn some good thing from them – their words, manners and appearance – if engrossing  your attention as it should, would involve that charming self-forgetfulness which, strange as it may appear, is consistent with a due amount of self-possession. Self-consciousness is an outcome of personal vanity and desire for admiration; self-possession has to do with seemly conduct, not vanity.

ELGIN – We should think that all house dogs living in the rooms should be washed. But it should be done carefully, so that they do not take cold, and the dog should be well rubbed, and kept warm, or given a good run afterwards.

AN ANXIOUS ONE – We have quite recently given an answer on the subject of squinting. If in an infant or very young child, some benefit may be derived from lightly bandaging the eye that is not affected, so as to force the other to work, and so bring the contracted muscles into play. Your second question we fail to understand. Do you mean “snoring”? If so, tie up your chin at night, and perhaps that may lessen the noise.

MAUDE FERRER’s – verses have some merit, but lack original thought, and are transcribed in very bad handwriting. The latter she should try to improve without delay, and if she derive enjoyment herself from writing the verses, there is no harm done.

24 March 1900 - 'A Little Strengthening Medicine' by 'The New Doctor'

In which The New Doctor rails against people who use bitters and tonics when he thinks they don't need to, and a veterinary surgeon's treatment of a lady's dog is questionable. 

 A certain lady brought her pet lap-dog to a veterinary surgeon. “Poor dear Fido,” she said, “has quite lost his appetite of late. He will scarcely eat anything, and is very depressed and listless. I have tried to tempt him with every dainty I could think of, but it is all to no purpose. The poor dear cannot eat. Yesterday he could scarcely manage the breast of a fowl which he had specially cooked for him. I am afraid that he must be very ill indeed!  Do you think that you can cure him?  Cannot you give him a little strengthening medicine to improve his appetite?”

“Yes, madam,” replied the veterinary surgeon; “I think I can cure him, but I am afraid you must leave him with me for the next three days. If you will call again on Thursday, I hope to be able to restore dear Fido to you quite cured.”

“Oh dear!” exclaimed the lady, “I am very, very sorry to leave poor dear Fido, but I suppose it is necessary.  Now be sure to give him everything he wants to eat, and do not on any account stint anything that he may fancy. Remember that expense is of no moment.”

“Very well, madam. I will do my very best to cure him! Good morning.”

And the lady departed quite at her ease, but had she lingered a few moments longer, she would have heard what would have much troubled her peace of mind, and might have been very unfortunate for the health of her dog. As soon as she had gone –

“Bob,” cried out the veterinary, “take that dog and chain him up in the yard, and remember to give him nothing whatever to eat till Thursday.”

Having seen to her favourite, the lady turns her attention to her own case. She also is suffering from loss of appetite, headache and lassitude. She also wants a little strengthening medicine. So she calls on her family doctor. She tells him her symptoms, ending up with the phrase which is ever ringing in the medical ear, “Could you give me a little strengthening medicine, please, doctor?”

The answer she gets to this question and the treatment she will be advised for her complaint will vary a good deal with many circumstances.

Had she lived half a century ago and consulted a celebrated surgeon, f whom a certain kind of biscuit takes its name, she would have had a very warm quarter of an hour, and she would have left his consulting-room in a very bad temper, with no bottle of strengthening medicine in her bag, and with curt suggestions as to treatment with which she would have been far from pleased. She would have determined never again to enter the house of this impertinent, ungentlemanly man. But if she had carried out his treatment, she would have been cured in a few days.

But too often she will leave the consulting-room smiling, with a very tempting bottle of strengthening medicine and pleasant suggestions about more dainty dishes, and a very little old port wine after lunch and a small glass of liqueur after dinner; and she remembers for many a long day her charming interview with that delightful and clever doctor.

And a few days later she repeats her visit, and continues her visits for weeks, months, years, her whole life, and she never gets cured.

And as time goes on she begins to think something serious is the matter with her, and thinks of cancer or some other extremely unlikely catastrophe, and she goes on feeding herself up and eating and drinking more and more to keep up her strength. And she gets worse and worse, and weaker and weaker, till she dies of apoplexy or some such thing.

And if you ask us what causes all this, we reply, unhesitatingly, it is the little strengthening medicine and the advice which goes with it, which has done it all.

It is the little strengthening medicine which has given the kind-hearted doctor a well-paying, life-long patient. It is the refusal to grant the little strengthening medicine which has lost the great surgeon the same influential patient.

On Thursday, the lady calls for her dog, and instantly he perceives her he rushes to her arms. And the poor darling little Fido has quite recovered his appetite, and is quite his own self again.

In her walk, or rather drive (for the lady we are describing does not approve of so tiresome an exercise as walking), she ponders over the complete cure of her dear little Fido, and she can scarcely help comparing his case with he own, and the greater knowledge of the veterinary over her own doctor.

But is this fair?  Is it fair to compare the results obtained by a veterinary surgeon, who deals with subjects who are unreasoning and who cannot rebel against his treatment, with those obtained by the family doctor hampered by conventionality and crushed by the whims of a reasoning but unreasonable patient, who will not carry out any of his instructions, save such as conforms to her own wishes?

Both this lady and her lap-dog are suffering from the same complaint, caused by the same thing – overeating. This lady has probably been eating and drinking too much, and stuffing her dog at the same time, until both are ill, and both need the same very simple treatment, which the dog can get, but the human being cannot, or rather will not.

We have before told you that we thoroughly disbelieve the opinion held by so many that evey Englishwoman overeats herself. And we firmly believe that anyone who eats until her appetite is satisfied, and then leaves off, will not take into her stomach more food than is necessary, provided she takes a mixed diet, that she takes a reasonable amount of exercise, and that she does not artificially stimulate her appetite in any way.

It is to this last factor, the artificial stimulation of the appetite, that we are directing your attention. The right and natural method of stimulating the appetite, which is exercise, may be, nay, should be, indulged in by everyone, whether she be health or ill. But the artificial stimulation of the appetite which is affected by bitters, tonics and strengthening medicines, requires very great deliberation and judgment before it is justified.

We have said that the appetite should be satisfied. It is the stomach’s call for nutriment. So long as the stomach is not filled the appetite is present. When the stomach is  satisfied the appetite fails. But it is possible to pervert the appetite. It is possible by careful and systematic overeating to create an appetite which is not readily satisfied, and which persisted after the stomach is filled.

The careful training of the digestive organs to withstand chronic abuse in the way of overwork has long ago reached a high state of development, and is now one of the most respected and popular of the fine arts.

Now let us study the ways by which we can pervert our appetites.  Unfortunately, all the measures which enable us to overeat stimulate the digestive organs to digest more than necessary. If only they made those who took them sick afterwards, they would not do so much harm. But they overwork the organs to digest too much nutriment and to throw the excess of food into the blood stream, whence, as it is unnecessary, it has to be discarded, and this throws excess of labour on to the excretory organs, mainly the liver and the kidneys.

The result of all this is obviously that the body of the gourmand is doing too much work, work which is useless, namely, the preparation and assimilation of useless food which has to be immediately thrown out of the body.

And so the body gets worn out before its time. It is working too hard. It is living at too high a tension, and consequently its life is short. The gourmand dies young; the chronic port-drinker dies young. Yet both of these die of old age, of degeneration. They have, as it were, lived their lives too rapidly; they have been burning the candle at both ends, and they die of degeneration of the arteries, of the heart, of the kidneys, and of the liver. And what are these but the signs of decay, of old age, and of death? The arteries are worn out, not by years of steady normal strain, but by excessive activity and abnormal use.

The agents which enable the body to assimilate too much food are either medicinal agents, or substances present in the food itself. 

Of the latter there are soups, which, though in themselves innutritious, are powerful stimulants to digestion, highly-spiced entrees, and all the alcoholic beverages.

The medicinal agents are bitters and strengthening medicines.

We do not say that bitters are to be universally condemned, nor that strengthening medicines are always harmful. It may be necessary to produce an appetite by artificial means when the natural call for food is absent through disease. And in some diseases, such as consumption and hysteria, systematic overfeeding will do more to cure the patient than anything else. And we have drugs which will produce or increase the appetite, and will stimulate the organs to digest the excess of food.

But the gourmand has found this out. And he says to himself, “If acids and bitters after meals, or bitters and sherry before meals, will increase the appetites of those who are sick, will it not enable me to increase my capacity for gorging?” And he tries sherry and bitters for the purpose.

Bitters are terrible poisons and few persons who take an occasional bitter before an extra good dinner really know that they are laying for themselves a path which may lead them to a life of constant misery, of ill-health, of moral weakness, and of early termination. What a lost is meant by that short phrase, “I want a little strengthening medicine, please, doctor.” How much misery and ill-health is connected with it! Yet the strengthening medicine is taken by many persons, a few for whom it is necessary or advantageous, a vast number for whom it is poisonous.

Most persons have an idea that when they are “run down”, a bottle of strengthening medicine will pull them together again in a very short time. And many persons also have the insane notion that the feeling of lassitude and general debility is usually caused by insufficient food, whereas in truth not one case of debility in a hundred is due to insufficient nourishment. The vast majority of cases are due to too little exercise.

A concrete example will often emphasise a point when a host of theoretical arguments fail to impress themselves. So we will give you the history or one of the very many thousands of sufferers who yearly ruin their health by strengthening medicines.

The Rev. Mr. ____, thirty years of age, consulted a celebrated physician last year for generally debility, lassitude, loss of appetite, and, as he expressed it, complete “run-downness.”

Three years previous to the interview he was a country curate doing a great deal of work with plenty, perhaps excess, of exercise, and had consequently developed a very large appetite. He was, as are most persons who lead an active outdoor life, perfectly healthy. But having come into a considerable fortune from an unexpected source, he gave up his country curacy and came to London, where he lived an indoor life of great mental study. He found that his appetite was beginning to fail, as of course it should, now that he no longer lived an active life, and was much alarmed to find that he could only eat a comparatively small amount.

He managed to put himself into the hands of a not over-careful or brilliant medical man, who told him that he wanted feeding up, and gave him some strengthening medicine to increase his appetite.

For two years he continued steadily eating more and more and getting worse and worse. Consequently he had an interview with Dr. ____, and at that time his dietary was as follows:-

9 a.m. Breakfast. He had little appetite for breakfast, but managed a little ham and eggs, or a fried sole and a cup of tea.
11 a.m. A glass of port wine and a sandwich.
1 p.m. A lunch of two or three courses, with claret and a glass of port wine afterwards.
4 p.m. Tea and toast.
6 p.m. An elaborate dinner, with various wines and dessert.

10 p.m. A glass of hot wine.
11 p.m. A little spirits and water before retiring.

He used to take bitters before the chief meals, and acids and gentian afterwards.

When Dr. ____ saw him he was suffering from absolute misery, and said, “Doctor, I cannot eat anything further.”  Dr. ____’s first step was to thoroughly examine him, and in the first place he discovered that the unfortunate curate’s teeth were in a lamentable condition. The treatment advised was as follows: A visit to the dentist. No medicines to be taken, save a small dose of calomel every second morning. Five miles at least to be walked every day. Lastly, and most important, the diet must be as follows:-

Breakfast: One boiled egg, toast and butter, and tea.
Lunch: A little fried fish, milk-pudding, bread, etc.
Dinner: A moderate dinner of two courses only.
All his wine and spirits were cut off.

The reverend gentleman was horrified at this, and said he would be starved to death on such a diet. But he followed Dr. ____’s advice, and was perfectly well in a fortnight, and has remained so to the present day.

We have laid aside our pen for a time, and the first patient we see asks us for “a little strengthening medicine, please, doctor.” Are we never to hear the end of this miserable sentence? Are we doomed throughout life to hear this self-same call of the surfeited for stimulation to further excess?

Yes, madam, we will give you a little moral strengthening medicine. Don’t eat so much; sell your carriage and use your legs; stop your snacks and glasses of curacoa; live a sensible life, and think of something else than your alimentary canal!

Undergo the treatment that the veterinary surgeon gave to the lap-dog, or that which Abernethy gave to your grandmother: “Live on half-a-crown a day, and earn it.”

But do you think she will take our advice? Not she! She will go round to every doctor in the neighbourhood till she comes to one who will order her more to eat and give her the beloved bottle of strengthening medicine!

2 June 1900 - 'The Law of Order and How Beryl Came to Observe It' - Chapter 3 - Duties of a Hostess, Chaperonage

This is the first of the 'Law of Order' articles I've transcribed since moving to Blogger. The previous two chapters can be found in the index for Housekeeping, Domestic Life and Etiquette, but as they're from the Tumblr I'll link them here and here also. If you've just joined us, 'The Law of Order and How Beryl Came to Observe It' are a series of etiquette articles framed, often awkwardly, as a serial story in which young wife and mother Clara schools young Beryl in how a nice young lady should behave. Today Beryl learns about how to treat house guests, and about how society's moved on and women be walking about unchaperoned now, but the more demure your mien and unobservable your dress, the lesser the chance you will be subjected to street harassment from strange men. 

 “This room will do very nicely, I think, said Beryl. “If there is anything necessary, Clare, you must be sure to tell me.  Father says I must get anything that is wanted.  This Lizzie Delverton is really a second cousin of father’s and not a bit old.  She lives at Brighton with her husband and children, and father saw her there last month and liked her so much that he told me to invite her here.  I cannot think why he could not have asked her himself.”

“Because an invitation always should come from the mistress of a house. You forget what an important person you are, Beryl!” I answered, and she laughed.

“Now, Clare, please take a tour of inspection round the room, and be as critical as you like.  I have made no attempt at arrangement yet, as you see, for I waited until you had seen over it all and told me what was wanted.”

“The windows won’t open at the top,” I said, after a vain struggle with them.

“Does that matter?”

“Yes.  Many people sleep with a bit of the window open at the top, both in winter and summer.  All windows should be able to be opened easily.  You can get a man to see to that, for the paint has stuck, and I am afraid none of you in the house will be able to do it. Now for the blinds. These Venetians want a little repairing, and the string is so much worn, I think you had better have a new one put.”

“Very well,” said Beryl. “You see I have brought up a piece of paper and pencil, and I shall make a note of all that you say I need to do or get done.”

“That is very methodical of you, Beryl. By the way, I have not seen you since you went to lunch at the Trevors’. Was it pleasant?”

“Yes,” said Beryl emphatically. “It was delightful.”

As I know that Mr and Mrs Trevor are an extremely quiet old couple – clients of Uncle Dick’s – I was rather surprised at Beryl’s tone and the evident pleasure she had had. However I was at the moment examining the door.

“Put down ‘key’ on your list, Beryl, unless there is one somewhere belonging to this lock. And see that it turns easily,” I said. “Oh, how this door creaks! You must put a little oil down the hinge. Is the bell in working order?”

“Yes, for I tried it before you came, and you will see that the presses and drawers have keys, so that is all right.”

“Are they empty?” I inquired.

“Nearly all.  You see, I keep some of my summer things in these lower drawers and half the hanging press is filled with dresses.  Surely this Lizzie Delverton will have enough room for her possessions with this” – and Beryl flung over the hanging wardrobe and showed an empty half, the other half being well stocked with dresses.

“Isn’t that the dress you wore the evening you spent with us last week?” I inquired, as I recognised a pretty evening dress.

“Yes,” said Beryl, “there is more room for it here.”

“Now, dear, don’t think me cruel when I say that you must empty out the drawers and presses and leave them quite free for your visitor.  I see there is a press in the wall that if you like you can fill with summer things; but the rest must be empty. It is most annoying for a visitor to have to live in her boxes, as she has to do if she does not find empty drawers and presses in which to place her belongings.  It also prevents her feeling that she has her room to herself if at any moment a member of the family may come to her room to take out dresses or anything they want.  By the way, of course you know that once your visitor has arrived you do not enter her room during her absence without asking her permission.”

“I did not know that,” said Beryl. “Very well, I shall move all my things into that wall press and into my own room.”

“Have you a bath for the room?”

“Yes, it is in the lumber-room at present; but it shall be brought down,” said Beryl. “And I want to get a nice bath blanket, such as you have, to throw over it.”

“Yes; and mind you have plenty of bath towels to change. A big Turkey towel should always be on the towel-horse as well as the other towels.”

“The housemaid should always ask a visitor on arrival at what hour he or she likes a bath, and whether hot or cold, and also if in winter a fire is liked or a hot water jar,” I said, for Beryl had asked me to remind her of everything that could conduce to the visitor’s comfort; and in reply to my remarks she said that she must have a fire lighted soon to air the room and bedding.

“There do not seem to be many pillows on the bed,” I remarked, “or a bolster.”

“No; none of us anything more than one pillow. I don’t think there is a bolster in the house,” said Beryl.

“You had better get one for this room,” I said, “for it is usual to find one on a bed, and if your guest does not like it she can ask the housemaid to take it away.  People who do not use bolsters and only one pillow are the exceptions.  I should get another pillow. How about your linen – is that in good order?”

“Yes,” said Beryl, looking pleased. “I am rather fond of nice house-linen, and when we got new sheets lately I got them all hem-stitched and the pillow-cases as well, and a few frilled pillow-cases for this room. About light, there is gas, as you see, but I suppose I had better put a little candlestick by the bed?”

“Certainly; and Beryl, do not forget the matches,” I said. “How often I have gone for a night or two at a friend’s house and not found them. Now I always carry about a box of matches with me; but everyone does not do so.”

“This is a nice sofa, is it not?”

“Very.  Now if I were you, I should put a nice writing-table close to it.  Many people – like myself – like to write their letters in their room; and it is such a comfort to find everything handy and a table at which one can write.  I remember last autumn going to stay a few days at Stoke Newington with an old friend and finding the most perfect writing-table. It was by no means an expensive one, simply a strong table with a pretty cloth on it, but it had everything that one could want on it.”

“Oh, do tell me what the things were,” said Beryl. “I should so like to get everything, too, for I want the room very nice; and really there is a charming writing-table in the lumber-room which only wants to be polished.”

“I think I can remember everything,” I said. “Writing paper and envelopes, correspondence and post-cards – of course in a little stationery case with a blotter well filled with blotting paper. In the pocket of the blotter were some telegraph and post-office order forms, luggage labels, both gummed and to tie on.  Then there was an inkstand with plenty of clean ink in it. Many people have very smart inkstands, but you often find in them only a small quantity of very dusty ink.  There was a penholder and a box containing pens of different kinds, pointed nibs and broad, a penwiper, pencil-ruler, sealing-wax, pen knife, small candle and wax vestas. I think that was all. No, now I remember, there was also a calendar on the table and a card containing weights for letters, etc., and a Salter’s letter-balance.”

“Do you think it necessary to have a clock in the room?” I have one I could put upon the chimney-piece.”

“it is a great convenience,” I answered, “and another nice plan is to have a famed card on the chimney-piece stating the hours of meals and when the post goes out, or rather when letters are sent to the post. In the country it is always well to add when the posts come in, but in London or a suburb like this where they are so frequent it is unnecessary. You should leave a few books and magazines in the room in case your visitor likes to look over them at any time; and be sure you leave a night-light ready to be lighted, and have it renewed every day if it is used. Before your guest arrives it is well to see yourself that all is in order, the soap and matches in their places, some flowers on the table in a pretty vase, a pin-cushion with pins in it on the dressing-table, and everything comfortable. Servants are so apt to forget the details which are so important. How long is your guest coming for?”

“I don’t know,” said Beryl. “I did not like to ask her for a stated time.”

“it is much better to do so, and it is not at all an inhospitable arrangement. It is really a great comfort to the visitor to know for how long she is expected as then she can regulate her luggage accordingly.  If she is only going on a visit of two days or a week, she actually needs less than if she was going to stay a month. If she does not know, she is on the horns of a dilemma.  On the one hand if she takes much luggage and finds she is not expected for a long stay, she feels as if her luggage looks as if she expected to stay some time, and if she has very little in the way of clothes, she is often much inconvenienced if the visit is longer than anticipated.”

“Then, in inviting people, is it well to ask them for a definite time?”

“Yes.  You can say, ‘Will you come and stay with us from Friday to Tuesday’ or ‘We shall be delighted if you can spend a fortnight with us,’ or ‘from the 8th to the 21st’. It is always quite easy for you to ask your visitor to extend her visit if you wish to do so.”

“I am afraid I shall find it rather a bother having her here,” said Beryl, “for I have so much to do just now. I am helping May a good deal with her music, for she is working up for an examination which is to take place at her school at the Midsummer term, and I have also a good deal to do on my own account, as I am re-writing a few little papers I have written.”

“Of course, as her hostess, you must always try to ascertain your cousin’s wishes and carry them out as best you can. People vary very much indeed. Some people treat one’s house like a hotel and go in and out in a way which is hardly courteous. They are unpunctual for meals and expect odd glasses of wine and sandwiches at all hours and things to be kept hot. I hope Lizzie will not be so inconsiderate.”

“I hope not indeed, for Jane’s temper is not of the best, and it will make her very cross.”

“I am sure you will do your best to make your cousin enjoy herself,” I said, for I knew how kind-hearted and good-=natured Beryl was. “I think some people are very inconsiderate to their guests and insist upon dragging them about here and there when perhaps they would much rather be quiet, or else, if they themselves know a place thoroughly, forget that their visitor may want to see what there is to be seen, and may not care to go about always by herself.”

“It will take up a lot of my time if she wants perpetual entertaining,” said Beryl.

“But you must not suppose, Beryl, that you will require to be with your cousin all day. Far from it.  Usually a visitor does not expect to see her hostess during the morning, as she concludes that she has her letters to write, housekeeping to attend to, and all kinds of matters to fill up her time. The visitor can go out to walk or stay in and read, write or work as she pleases. You are so near London that Lizzie Delverton will probably want to do no end of shopping or sight-seeing and one of you thee girls can go with her.”

“oh well, that is a relief, at least to have the mornings!” said Beryl, “but during the rest of the day I suppose I must give myself up to her or get Amy or May to be with her?”

“Just see first of all how things go. I have never met Lizzie since her marriage, so do not know her tastes. In any case you may be very glad of her being here if any of you want to go up to town to see things; it will be pleasant for all of you.”

An uneasy look passed over Beryl’s face at my words and she coloured up slightly.

“Clare, I have always forgotten to ask you something.”

“Yes, dear – what is it?”

“About going out by myself,” said Beryl. “Of course Wobury was only a village, and I went about there all the time; and when I went into Anderford, our nearest town, father or someone was always with me. Now here it is so different. I want to go into London constantly for one thing or another, and I don’t think it is quite pleasant.”

“What made you find it pleasant?”

“I was walking down Regent Street yesterday afternoon. It was so fine, and I was enjoying immensely looking in at the shop-windows, and a man came up and spoke to me. Of course I hurried on, but it alarmed me,” said Beryl, and she continued, “It is not the first time that I have been spoken to and very much stared at.”

“What had you on?”

“My new hat,” said Beryl, alluding to a charming hat which became her very much, but which was decidedly dressy and smart.

“Beryl,” I said, “to begin with, you should not walk about the Strand or Regent Street and Piccadilly by yourself in the afternoon. It is an understood thing that it is not advisable to do so, and in any case if you are obliged to go into any crowded regions unaccompanied – and you can nearly always avoid it by taking an omnibus – then you should be as quietly and unobservably dressed as possible.  Indeed you should aim at that whenever you are in London by yourself.”

“I certainly shall in future,” said Beryl. “I was afraid that you were going to say that I could not go about by myself at all, and I was wondering what I should do, for of course father is too busy to come with me excepting once in a blue moon, Tom is at his lessons, and Amy and May too are usually at school.”

“They would not mend the matter.  The two of you together had much better never be walking about the most frequented thoroughfares of London in the afternoon, but I repeat in an emergency if you have to go, be careful about your dress. If you have to go up to London for any purpose, go in the morning and no matter where it is walk quietly on, not stopping to look into shops and never dawdling or sauntering. If you do this, quietly dressed and not staring about you, but walking modestly and nicely – as you always do, I think,  Beryl,” I added, for she looked alarmed, “then you need not be uneasy. In the upper ten thousand rank of life a girl may not be seen, excepting perhaps near her own house, unaccompanied; but in our more quiet station of life it is quite permissible. IN these days, too, when girls take up all kinds of professions, it becomes a necessity that she should go about without a chaperon.”

“Thank you very much, Clare. When my little papers are finished, I am going to take them up to an editor in a lane near Fleet Street. Mr Trevor’s nephew, Mr Ernest Trevor, has given me an introduction to the editor of the Thinker, and he thinks that they might possibility be taken there. I do so hope they will be. I was talking to Mr Trevor about it when I met him at luncheon at his uncle’s, and he was very encouraging.”

“Have you shown them to him then?” I inquired.

“Yes, and he thought them rather nice,” said Beryl, “but I must not repeat what he said,” she added, laughing. “Of course the opinions of friends are not of much value.”

“I did not know he was a friend,” I remarked.

“Oh, yes. He has come to live near us. He is boarding with the Harrington-Browns, and he often comes in the evenings to talk to father,” said Beryl.

I said nothing, though Beryl’s expression led me to wonder if my busy uncle talked all the evening only to young Trevor, whom I knew to be a rising artist. But to tease or chaff a girl about a young man, simply because he is attentive to her or they  have some tastes in common, is very foreign to my taste and practice. Many people do so much harm in that way, and it always strikes me as an evidence of bad taste. Many girls are made shy and self-conscious when they are teased in this way, and what might have ended in a happy engagement often comes to nothing in consequence.

Lizzie Delverton came, and after her visit to the Thrushes, she came to see me for a week, and a very pleasant visitor I found her. She always had something to occupy her when I was busy, and always seemed to know when to efface herself. In the evenings she was always ready to play when asked to do so, and yet she was not one of those dreadful individuals who, once in possession of the music-stool, cannot be induced by hint or suggestion to vacate it.

I much enjoyed Lizzie’s visit, for she had plenty of tact. Jack is Conservative, and Lizzie, I found, is a Radical, and so is her husband, who is at present in India. I was afraid they would have unpleasant discussions, but to my surprise they had not. Everything passed off most pleasantly.

Beryl did not say much about her literary efforts to me this spring. I did not think that she was meeting with success or she would have told me about it; and later on I found that my surmise was correct. However, she seemed in excellent spirits.

In May my baby was born, and Beryl was her godmother. I got well very quickly, and when baby was a month old I was quite myself again.

One day Beryl came in to see me, and after we had done a good deal of baby-worship, she asked me what I had been about before she came in, for my table was covered with bundles of letters.

“I am looking over old letters and I am going to destroy a great many,” I said.

“Those look very old,” remarked Beryl, referring to a packet of yellow letters.

“Yes, they were some my father possessed, old family letters now of no interest to anyone.”

“I wish you would give me some hints upon letter-writing,” said Beryl.

I shook my head.

“Ask mother – she is the one to tell you all about letter-writing,” I said, and as mother came in at that moment, I told her of Beryl’s request and she settled herself down and said she would willingly give her a few hints about it.

17 April 1886 - Useful Hints - 'French or Dry Cleaning at Home for Gloves, Ties, Boots (Either Satin or Kid), Furs and Plush' - by M.C.

This method is so simple that, to young ladies who go out a great deal, gloves are a great consideration, and when by such a simple process you can have clean gloves in a few minutes, most ladies would like to learn the method, the cost of which is so trifling.  The first thing to do is to procure benzene, or benzoline (the former I prefer) from a chemist; six-pennyworth will clean at least a dozen pairs, and then can be used again, if care be taken that in returning it to the bottle no sediment is allowed to return, but wiped from the bowl with a cloth kept for that purpose.

The best thing to scrub the articles on is a common slate and an ordinary nail-brush, and care must be taken that water on no account must be allowed to come near the spirit.

There are two bowls used, one for soaking, the other for rinsing.

After soaking the articles, lay them on the slate and scrub those parts which are the most soiled gently until clean, then rinse them through the clean spirit, and put them on a rounded stick, or a glove stretcher will do if not opened, and rub gently all over until dry, then hang them up on a piece of twine to take the smell out of them.

It is always best to do your cleaning in the day with windows open, so that the air carries off any smell; although not unpleasant, some people object to it.  Light or fire should be avoided, as the spirit is inflammable, but with a little ordinary attention there is not the slightest cause for fear.

This method of cleaning is so simple that a child of ten years old could, without the slightest fatigue, clean from twenty to thirty pairs per hour.

The rubbing clothes are made of the commonest kind of coarse towelling, half a yard square, and when these are dirty and require washing, they should be thrown into strong soda water and boiled, and when thoroughly dried are ready for use.

Boot and shoe cleaning is precisely the same as for gloves, only in the case of kid shoes, instead of being dried with a cloth, they are finished with plaster of Paris, the plaster being rubbed on with the hand.

White furs are treated in the same way, and then shaken well to get the powder out and raise the fur nicely.

Dark furs are rinsed in clear spirit after scrubbing, then rubbed neatly dry with a cloth, shaken, and hung up to dry the same as gloves.

I think it best to take the linings out of muffs (but not other things) because it is very difficult to get the lining to set smooth afterwards.

Neckties are smoothed over with a warm iron after cleaning, and, as a rule, look equal to new.  Furniture coverings can have all grease removed from them by rubbing the part with the brush first, and then quickly with a cloth; if the first application is not sufficient, the second one is a certainty.

This process of cleaning removes dirt and grease of every kind, but not stains.  Sometimes a spot of grease on a dress spoils the effect, and some people think nothing will do but to re-trim or take the soiled part away; but this spirit, carefully used on the spilt part, will almost instantaneously remove all trace of grease.

17 December 1881 - 'How to Provide for a Children's Party' by Phillis Browne

Use lots and lots of food colouring. Children love colour.

There is many a household where the children would be allowed to have a “party” now and then, if it were not for the trouble which the necessary preparation would entail upon the elders. Why should not the girls belonging to our cooking class set to work to give a little pleasure to their small brothers and sisters?  So far as the cooking is concerned, I am sure they could do what has to be done easily, and I have very little doubt that if they tried they could manage to entertain the youngsters as well as to feed them. What do you say, big grown-up sisters?  Do you think the little ones would like it?  If they would, persuade mamma to consent, tell her you will take all the trouble of getting ready out of her hands, send out your invitations, and then let us have a little talk together about what is to be provided for supper.

First of all, however, I must tell you that I am a very old-fashioned person. I believe in children being treated as children, and fed on simple wholesome diet. I should be very sorry to ask any of my young friends to spend an evening with me, and then arrange matters so that they should be in the hands of the doctor for two or three weeks after they have left me. Therefore, I warn you that if you admit me into consultation you will not be told of anything rich and savoury, but only what is suitable, plain, and good. I will answer for it, however, that the children will appreciate the dishes which I am about to suggest, and if they are satisfied I do not think we need mind anyone else.

There is one advantage in providing for children, and that is that you soon know whether or not they like what is set before them. Also, you are in no difficulty as to the kind of dishes which they prefer. Meat they do not care much for, and they are better without it at night; therefore, so far as the children are concerned, we need not trouble about meat dishes. Of course, if there are any mammas and papas invited to accompany the children, it is a different thing; we enter upon a new field altogether. Here, however, I am speaking of provision for children only, and I maintain that you may make all sorts of expensive preparations, provide fish, fowl, or good red herrings, etc., and the children will care very little for any of them. Your substantial dishes will all be regarded as so many unimportant details which must be surmounted before the sweets can be arrived at. If, therefore, you will be persuaded by me you will provide nothing in the way of meat excepting a few well-made beef, ham or tongue sandwiches, and a dish of sausage rolls. Even these will be introduced more for form than anything else. You will not think you have made suitable provision unless you have a few sandwiches; therefore have them by all means, but if you consult the wishes of the children you will not provide a large quantity, neither will you pass round those which are there too many times.

But though our supply of meat be thus limited, we must take good care to have plenty of fruit – oranges, apples, almonds and raisins, French plums and grapes, and fresh fruit, if it is in season. Nuts I should not recommend, because nuts very often disagree with children. More than all, however, we must have an ample variety of good sweets, and by good I mean sweets which look well, as well as taste well. We are all influenced by the eye as by the palate, and children are especially so. Moreover, children like colour and appreciate contrasts. The addition of a few drops of cochineal will often determine their appreciation of a dish. As we wish to please the little folks, we must not forget to supply colour.

Before I go on to the all important sweets, however, I must say a word about making the sandwiches. Perhaps you feel inclined to say “Everyone knows how to make sandwiches! Why speak of them?” I suppose theoretically everyone does know, and yet well made sandwiches are very rarely met with. First of all, the sandwiches must be freshly made, and with bread which is firm but not dry; therefore if you do not bake at home, order a square tinned loaf of the baker, and have it baked the day but one before the day of the party. A loaf of this shape is the best, because there is so little waste in cutting it. If you were wanting to make a large quantity of sandwiches it would be well to order a sandwich loaf – that is, a plain tinned loaf of twice the usual length. This would supply you with the maximum amount of crumb and the minimum amount of crust. A loaf of the ordinary size will, however, make a very good dish of sandwiches.

Before cutting our sandwiches, we put the meat of which they are to be made on a plate, look it over very carefully, and remove all the gristle, skin, and inferior portions, then cut the remainder into small mouthfuls. We place the mustard and butter (the latter must not be too hard to spread easily) close to our hands, and then we may commence operations. If the sandwiches were to be made of beef, a little salt would be needed, but  for ham or tongue this is not required.  By the way, I may say that economical housekeepers often make beef sandwiches of the tinned corned beef, for the purpose finding it both convenient and cheap.

Of course, the crust must be shaved from the loaf all around, and the slices must be cut thinly and with a sharp knife. The butter must be spread very lightly, and the mouthfuls of meat must be laid on evenly to cover the whole surface of the under slice. Add mustard judiciously, press the uppermost slice upon the meat gently with the hand, and cut the slice into triangular pieces of a small size; large sandwiches do not look well. Cover a dish with a neatly folded napkin, pile the sandwiches lightly on it, place small sprigs of green parsley here and there upon it, and our dish is ready.

We should not make these sandwiches until the day of the party, and the later they could be made the better. It is quite possible, however, that our friends the providers will have so much to do and think of that they will wish to make the sandwiches early and get them off their minds. They may do this easily, and the sandwiches will take no harm if they are placed in a cool place, and if a napkin wrung out of cold water is placed on them.

If liked, sandwiches can be made of something different to the ordinary ham or tongue. Cold meat, poultry or game may be used, potted meats or potted fish of all kinds, or even cold dressed fish with fish sauce can be converted into sandwiches. The most delicious sandwiches I ever tasted were made with brown bread and butter and filleted anchovy (that is, strips of anchovy freed from bone and skin), hard boiled eggs cut into slices, and small salad. These sandwiches were rather troublesome to make, but they were quite worth the trouble they cost.

The sausage rolls may be very easily prepared. Calculate how many rolls you will need, and procure half the number of sausages, because each sausage will make two rolls. If you buy ready made sausages, be very particular where you get them, because as you know there are sausages and sausages. Do not get very highly seasoned meats, because children are not partial to pepper. Make a little flaky pastry, the recipe for which you will find in a previous number of THE GIRL’S OWN PAPER. Roll this out into pieces the eighth of an inch thick and six inches square. Cut the sausages into halves, lay each half in the middle of a square, fold the pastry over the meat, and join the edges neatly down the centre. Place the rolls on a greased baking tin, brush the tops of the rolls with egg, slightly beaten, and bake in a hot oven. It is best to cook the sausages partially before putting them in the pastry, then the rolls are sufficiently baked when the pastry is done. The fresh sausages may be plunged into fast boiling water and simmered for five minutes; after this the skin can be drawn off, and when cold the sausages are ready.

Jellies, creams and blancmanges are always liked by children, therefore I would advise you to make an ample supply of these either the day before, or the day but one before the party. In arranging for an affair of this kind it is always well to do as much as possible beforehand, and to leave as little as may be to the actual day; however much you do you will find quite enough to occupy you at the time.  There will be rooms and table to prepare, the children to get ready, the games to arrange, and the flowers to look after. As to how you are to make the jellies and creams, I must refer you to my articles on those two subjects published recently. Follow closely the directions given there and your moulds will turn out well, only remember to supply colour and to give ample scope to your ideas of ornamentation.

As to additional sweet dishes, I will mention two or three which you may like to make in addition to those I have mentioned.

Snow Balls- Boil a teacupful of ice with a pint and a half of milk; flavour with chopped almonds, sweeten with sifted sugar.  When tender beat the rice briskly to make it smooth.  Pour it into cups which have been rinsed in cold water.  When cold turn these on a glass dish; garnish with bright-coloured jam, and serve with milk or cream.

Fruit Gateau – Soak half an ounce gelatine in as much water as will cover it for half an hour.  Boil half a pint of water and a quarter of a pound of sugar to a syrup.  Throw in a pound of any kind of firm fruit, without being at all broken, and simmer till the fruit is tender.  Dissolve the gelatine, put it with the fruit, add a few drops of cocineal, if colour is needed, and the juice of a lemon if dry fruit has been used.  Place a jelly-pot in the middle of a mould, pour the fruit round it; turn it when cold on a glass dish and put cream in the centre.

It is astonishing what a number of dishes you can make by following this recipe and using different fruits.  French plums make a delicious mould, which looks dark and rich as well as tastes well.  Apples too, flavoured with lemon and boiled to pulp, are very good; rhubarb also, and cranberries for people who like cranberries, are excellent.  Fresh fruit, of course, may be used in this way, and excellent gateaux may be made of any fruit which is firm enough to keep its shape when boiled.  In winter it is a good plan to make two moulds, one of apples and one of prunes.  The preparations of apple can, if liked, be arranged in layers, each alternative layer being coloured.

Lemon Sponge – Soak an ounce of gelatine in a quarter of a pint of water.  In half an hour put it into a saucepan with three-quarters of a pint of water; the thin rind and strained juice of two fresh lemons, and three-quarters of a pound of loaf sugar.  When the gelatine is dissolved pour the liquid out and let it remain until it is cold and beginning to set.  Take the whites of thee eggs, without a speck of yellow, beat them well, then put them with the dissolved gelatine, and whisk all together till the preparation stiffens and looks like snow.  Pile it high on a dish and make it look as rocky as possible, and at the last moment sprinkle hundreds and thousands, or pink sugar, over it.  Serve with finger biscuits.  To make the pink sugar, crumble a little loaf sugar to powder; drop a little cochineal on the palm of the hand, and rub the sugar in the cochineal.  Spread it out to dry.

Jam with Cream – Rub three or four good lumps of sugar upon a large fresh lemon till all the yellow part is taken off; add more sugar to make up four ounces.  Put this in half a pint of double cream and flavour with a glass of raisin wine, if liked.  Whip the cream with a whisk till it is slightly thick.  Put a spoonful of apricot jam at the bottom of some six or eight custard glasses.  Fill the glasses with the whipped cream, and serve with sponge fingers.

Stewed Prunes are always liked by children, and served with milk or cream they are both wholesome and excellent.  The prunes should be soaked overnight in plenty of cold water, they should then be simmered gently in the same water till they are quite soft; a little lemon rind and two or three cloves may be stewed with them.  When done the fruit should be drained (stoned or not), allowed to cool a little, then piled high in a dish.  The syrup should be strained, sweetened and thickened slightly with a little arrowroot, coloured with two or three drops of cochineal, and poured over the fruit. 

Peach Compote, or Pine-apple Compote – Procure a tin either of preserved pine-apple or preserved peaches and a small and rather stale sponge cake.  Pour off the juice and put it into an enamelled stewpan with a breakfast-cupful of white sugar and a teacupful of water, and boil a minute or two till the sugar is dissolved; then put in the fruit and stew gently till it is quite tender.  Cut a piece out of the centre of the sponge cake, leaving a good wall all round which is not likely to break.  Put the fruit (when quite cold) gently into the centre of the cake, place a slice of sponge cake on the top as a cover; pour the syrup all over, and let the cake soak in the syrup.  Pour a thick cream or custard over all; sprinkle pistachio kernels, which have been blanched like almonds and chopped finely, on the top, and the compote is ready.  The sponge cake which was cut out may be crumbled, put into a glass dish, soaked in cream, and covered first with jam and then with good custard.

I must not, in speaking of the sweets, forget to mention the fruit.  As I said before, have plenty of fruit; it is wholesome and comparatively inexpensive and convenient.  If the party is given in summer time when we can get fresh fruit, we possess a great advantage.  A large dish of ripe strawberries or currants will go a long way towards furnishing one table, and with the addition of white sugar and cream, will constitute luxury by themselves.  The more usual time for parties, however, is in winter, when apples, oranges, and dried fruits only are to be had.  The value of these will be greatly increased if they are prettily dished with green leaves for garnish.  May I remind my friends that when fresh leaves are not available artificial leaves may be bought at the fancy shops?

Ripe juicy oranges are always popular when they can be eaten in private; but they are rather more than children can manage who are seated, not at the table, but round the room; who have a plate, and a fork, and a spoon on their knees; and who are specially desirous of conducting themselves with elegance and propriety.  I never see children at parties eating oranges but I think of the two old ladies in Crawford who made a point of retiring to their bedrooms when they were about to indulge in oranges, because they so much enjoyed sucking the fruit, and did not like to do so before each other.  Besides, with children pretty best dresses have to be considered, and we do not want them to come to grief.  Why then should we not prepare the oranges so that the children’s difficulty will vanish? 

The usual way of preparing oranges is to cut them in half, but a half orange is almost as difficult to manage as a whole one; far better adopt the following plan, which comes to us, I believe, from America.  Peel off the skin of the orange, leaving only a band round the middle about an inch wide.  Divide the orange into sections, but let these remain connected by the band.  The strip of rind can (if liked) be divided into two, so that each child can have half an orange instead of a whole one; but in either case it will be found that the sections can be removed when wanted and disposed of one by one, and that without any discomfort.  Oranges thus prepared do not look very well, but they are most convenient for eating. 

When the time has come for laying out the supper, be sure to arrange the dishes so that the different colours shall contrast prettily.  Intermix the white creams with dark gateaux or pink jellies, and let there be plenty of flowers upon the table; be sure also that there is an ample supply of forks, spoons and clean plates.

Of course we must provide something for our little friends to drink, and what shall that be?  A great many hospitably disposed people out of the kindness of their hearts offer wine to children – sherry or raisin wine, or even champagne.  Be sure this is mistaken kindness.  If the children are judiciously brought up they will not be accustomed to wine at home, and wine is more likely to disagree with them than anything else.  Have plenty of lemonade and raspberry vinegar; simple drinks like these will quench the thirst of your guests and will do them no harm.

The raspberry vinegar and water may have a little carbonate of soda stirred into it and be drunk during effervescence.  The lemonade may be made as follows –

Lemonade – Pare the thin yellow rind of two lemons and throw it into a pint of cold water.  Boil this with half a pound of loaf sugar till it is a clear syrup; strain and cool it, and mix with it a quarter of a pint of lemon juice.  Two tablespoonfuls of this syrup mixed with a tumbler-ful of cold water will make an excellent drink.  If liked, the lemon syrup can be mixed with water beforehand, put into decanters, and served in large claret glasses instead of tumblers. Some people use lemon juice sold in bottles for preparations of this kind, but bought lemon juice never tastes so well as juice newly strained from fresh lemons.

Last but not least, whatever else you omit, at a children’s party have plenty of bonbons.

19 November 1881 - Answers to Correspondents - Miscellaneous advice

CHRISSIE PARKER -1. Your first question is a silly one.  2. There seems little room for doubt that Lady Jane Grey was placed on the throne much against her own wish and better judgment. The first thermometer was constructed by Fahrenheit, a native of Amsterdam, about the year 1720.

LAUGHING WATER: - Use a little weak ammonia and water to the stains on your dress. The “Man in the Iron Mask” is now, we believe, generally supposed to have been Count Mathioli, the Prime Minister to the Duke of Mantua who, having been bribed by Louis XIV, betrayed him to his master, and was seized treacherously and immured for life in France.

YELLOW BUTTER wants us to tell her “which is the proper height for a young lady”. The “proper height” is not an invariable one, as it depends on the proportions of the head and figure, and the due proportions to be maintained. Abut supposing the symmetry were perfect, you might just as well be a “pocket Venus” as a grand specimen of perfect and extra development. There is no “proper height” for a tree, nor “proper height” for a building. There is a charm in variety, if combined with correct proportions. The question of size is a matter of individual taste.  2. People do not continue to bow every time they meet a friend during a promenade, but should your eyes chance to meet you may make a slight smile of recognition.

ROSEBUD – 1. Your gentleman acquaintance needs not to stop to introduce his lady relative with whom he is walking merely because he has raised his hat in acknowledgement of your bow.  2. Unmarried girls have their names engraved under that of their mother on her visiting card, but if she be dead, and they out in society, they may have a card of their own.

CLARA DESMOND – The “gentleman” who was introduced to you by your host was guilty of ill-breeding in replying to your first remark by saying, “I did not catch your name”. It seemed like a distrust of his host’s discretion. If he did not know to whom he was presented, he should have taken an opportunity of making a private inquiry elsewhere. In replying, you should have said, “My name is Desmond”. You write neatly.

HESTER – We do not think you have quite considered the foolish nature of the question you have put to us. If everyone born at sea could claim a pension, imagine the amount of money required to be invested to pay such pensions. The people who told you such a story must have been mischievous, foolish, or very ignorant.

A MACDONALD OF GLENCOE – You say that you are still only a school-girl, yet wish to leave home as a Zenana missionary, although adverse at present to the wishes of your parents. Go home first and show dutiful obedience to your parents until a little older, for very young women are not sufficiently experienced, and do not carry sufficient weight, to be suitable for the work you desire. Your home training, in loving submission to those who are “over you in our Lord” will render you more fit to be a trainer and teacher of others, for it is not merely scholarship and a knowledge of the Indian languages that will form a due and efficient training for such a life. You know your wishes, and when you have exercised patience and “shown piety at home”, for a time, your parents will be more ready to accede to your wishes later on. It is no trifling duty to set an example of filial submission to your sisters.